


25

by florahart



Category: Breakfast Club (1985)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-25
Updated: 2011-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-28 02:57:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/302967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/florahart/pseuds/florahart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seriously, John, you promised Brian would help with what?</p>
            </blockquote>





	25

**Author's Note:**

  * For [healingmirth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/healingmirth/gifts).



"You know, what they really should have thought about is hiring us to oversee preparations for the zombie apocalypse. We'd kick ass at that, with our combined skills, right?"

"What?" Brian looked up from the paper, face scrunched in puzzlement.

John shrugged and sipped at his coffee, making a face because Brian had used some of the vanilla-flavored beans again and John was never, not ever, going to admit that he kind of liked the effect. "Not us, you and me specifically," he said, "although we would, obviously, be a valuable asset to any zombie-defeating campaign. I meant, us, the five of us."

"John, are you somehow, although I don't even remember how any preparing for events of any kind was on the table then, continuing the conversation from _last night_ again? Haven't we talked about how you need to clue me in when you pick up nine or ten hours later from wherever you last left off? My brain is more linear than that."

"Oh, well that's a problem. I think zombies are more into lurching than linear. I'd been hoping we could use you for bait."

"One, if anyone is bait, it's going to be you because your brain is just interesting enough, barely, after you've had coffee, to appeal to your average run of the mill zombie,and also you can cut through the gym and double back and generally tie 'em all in a knot trying to figure out where the hell you're going. Me, I'm better used actually solving the problem. Linearly. With double-checking." Brian held up his pencil. "Me and problem-solving are old friends. Two, you're certifiable, but I guess you know that."

"Zombies don't always respond as one might hope to pencil attacks, Brian," John said, ignoring point two entirely.

"Yes, but physics involves a lot of constants, and those remain in effect whether there are zombies, werewolves, or the goddamn Batman in play. Anyway, why the five of us for that? What's the rest of your plan?"

"It's a complicated plan."

"It's Saturday. I have time."

"The goddamn Batman? Brian, I am shocked. When did you incorporate swearing into your vocabulary?"

"Stop stalling. It was around the time I was trying to get you to move your hand a lot faster, sometime in, oh, 1986, and has remained present ever since, even during that five years you fucked off to find yourself. And what do Andy, Allison, and Claire have to do with zombie apocalypses, anyway? Wait, is apocalypse a special case when plural? Is the concept of multiple apocalyses, apocalypsi, whatever, too weird to have a word for it?"

"Oh, I see why certifiability is always my issue. And the answer is, because you would definitely say that it would be better than our actual assignment."

Brian narrowed his eyes. "What actual assignment?"

"Inexplicably, you, I, Andy, Allison, and Claire have been designated the reunion committee for the whole 25th thing"

"That's ridiculous. I haven't even been to any of our reunions."

"Considering I didn't-go right there next to you on, for the last eight years if memory serves, that couch over there, I think you probably know I haven't either. And yet, the assignment has been given."

"By who?"

"By _whom_ , you asked?"

Brian flipped John the bird and turned to the word search, which was less interesting than the crossword but today's crossword was unnaturally focused on cars and would be more fun to do later, in bed. "You better not have said I'd do it."

"Would I do that?"

"If it made you look like that whole criminal with a heart of gold cliche and left me holding the bag on the work? Hell yes."

"So, if I did...?"

"You'll owe me."

"Oh? And what, pray tell, will I have to give you?"

Brian rolled his eyes. "You know, I'm more than happy to let you blow me pretty much any time. Well, okay. Not at work, unless the door is locked _and_ the blinds are closed. Not in any public restaurant unless there's a long tablecloth and it's dark. Not anywhere I will get arrested. But besides that. You don't have to give me something you need to make up to me. And look at it this way. With the reunion thing, you suck my cock, and then we have to do all this crap for people neither of us have anything in common with except for the nine or so we hang out with anyway. Without it, you suck my cock, and then we wake up in the morning and have more sex. How is your way better?" He pointed with his pencil again. "Seriously. _How_ is your way any better?"

"Well if it was the zombie _apocalypse_ , then we'd have all that extra adrenaline going on. That always spices things up."

"But it's not, so why am I supposed to care?"

John shrugged and snitched a triangle of Brian's toast. "Claire got nominated by some whole committee thing, and you know she actually does care, but she's all morning sickness and swollen ankles, and Allison's willing to help but, you know, Mayor's art show, same timeframe, lots of organizing, yadda. Which leaves you, me, and Andy, and if we leave it up to Andy, it's décor by duct tape, which _apparently_ violates several rules of reunion etiquette."

"Yeah, and with us, it's glue guns and lampshades. I see how that's better."

"And the occasional scorch mark."

"And that. Ugh. I hate you for there being a good reason, even if we're going to suck at it. Good reason to help, not to actually attend or approve of the existence of the event."

"Plus side, it'll probably make Vernon turn purple; I'm pretty sure the fact I'm not dead yet is a standing reason for quarterly visits to the doctor to discuss his rage issues."

"Yes, yes, you're excellent in that regard, although I have to tell you, Vernon's just kind of a douche. He's not actually made of demon juice and a ball of brimstone."

"Says you. Will you still be saying that after making nice with him all evening next to the lovely punch bowl? Just because he's retired doesn't mean he doesn't still show up to this stuff."

"We don't, do we? Actually have to go?"

"Will you still hate me after I make it up to you?"

Brian sighed. "Yeah, but I'll get over it."

"Thought you might. Claire won't be here for an hour, though; wanna get started?"


End file.
